Please read the last section of the Writer's Notes (the part that comes after the 'Reviews'). A miniscule announcement and what not.

DISCLAIMER: HELLSING IS OWNED BY KOUTA HIRANO. I DO NOT ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.

FIRE EMBLEM IS OWNED BY NINTENDO. I DON'T OWN IT'S CHARACTERS EITHER.

ITALICS=THOUGHTS, WRITING, EMPHASIS, AND SOUNDS

BOLD= DATES, PLACES, ECT.

BOLD ITALICS=WRITER

Ylisstol, Ylisse ~ Royal Palace

December 6, Age 2609 (8:26 P.M.)

"Anyone here know why Chrom couldn't make it?"

"He has other things to worry about besides going out for a drink with us, Vaike."

"Ey, well we managed to rope Ol' stern face himself into comin', so why not Chrom?"

The weekly trip to the tavern had become an event of sorts for the Shepherds; a time for the men of the group to have… man time? Walter didn't know, he just enjoyed the reprieve from work. Starting out, it was just him, Vaike, Gregor, Gaius, and Virion. The next week, Vaike roped Lon'qu and Stahl in—the former having been challenged to see whether or not he could hold his liquor like Khan Basilio purportedly could. Gregor—much to Walter's chagrin—invited Ricken; the young man insisting that he be allowed to join the 'adults'. The week after that, Virion somehow managed to drag Libra to the pub with him—something about a misunderstanding and the noble needing to make it up to him. Kellam also joined that week, but hardly anyone even noticed him. Last week, Walter brought Donnel with him—seeing as how if Ricken was allowed to drink, Donnel was too.

This week, Frederick was the 'new blood'; dragged into the fray by Walter under the pretense that he'd be the 'responsible adult' of the group.

"I invited Chrom, but he was far too busy tonight," Walter commented as he gestured for the tavern maiden to pass the beer around. "There's always next week."

"Horse shit! That's what you said last week!" Vaike complained as he was handed a mug. "Also said that the week before that too! How long's Ol' Teach gotta wait before he can have a good ol' drinkin' game with his rival!?" the blonde violently slammed his mug into the table.

"Hey, careful! You're lucky no one put their drinks on the table! We might've had a repeat of the post war celebration if we had," Virion muttered.

"Nah, that'd require 'Firecracker' to be here," Gaius pointed out.

"Speaking of Sully, are you and her still a thing?" Stahl, turning towards Virion, asked.

"That's… a complicated question…" Virion replied, uncharacteristically somber.

"Oy, Gregor has been noticing the very distant behavior from Sullykins; very strange, so Gregor was wondering if you were cause," Gregor gave the noble a frown. Virion raised his hands up defensively.

"I suppose you can say that she and I are… having a 'rough patch', so to speak," he murmured.

"Rough patch? Why and how?" Walter raised a brow. "Last I checked, the two of you seemed nigh inseparable."

It was no secret that Virion and Sully, after the war ended, entered a relationship of sorts. Calling them anything less than lovers would be a gross understatement; though Sully seemed determined to remain—in 'standard anime terms'—as 'tsundere' as humanly possible. Every now and then when he went out to purchase a thing or two in town, he'd see the pair acting like any normal couple—going out on dates and what not. To hear that something was going on between the two was a surprise.

"I'd rather not speak on the subject; consideration for the two 'boys' in the room," Virion said, referring to Ricken and Donnel.

"Hey! Whatcha implying!?" Ricken glared daggers at the silvery-blue haired man. "If I'm old enough to drink, I'm old enough to handle whatever it is you're talking about!"

"Er, I ain't too sure about myself…" Donnel replied for himself, shuffling in his seat uncomfortably.

"It can't be that bad…" Gaius leaned forward curiously. "Come on, 'your lordship'; enlighten us as to what plagues your wonderful relationship."

"I don't feel like discussing this with you lot…" Virion grumbled

"Come on! You're among friends! We're all men here! Guys help other guys, it's what we do!" Vaike adamantly declared with a grin. "Besides—like Gaius said—it can't be that bad! I mean, worst thing that can be happenin' is that you're getting' blue balled!"

Lon'qu nearly choked on his beer at Vaike's lack of tact, and Libra's brain seemed to cease functioning.

"Right? You ain't getting' blue balled, right?" Vaike nudged Virion.

The proud nobleman turned away, looking down shamefully.

"Holy shit, he is…" Gaius gasped.

"Er… what's 'blue ba-" Frederick raised his hand to stop Ricken from finishing his question.

"Don't ask…" the usually stern-faced knight looked a slight bit uncomfortable in his seat.

"You mean you and her haven't…" Vaike stared at the noble in shock.

Virion shook his head, embarrassed.

"No surprise here…" Stahl laughed sheepishly. "I mean, I've been friends with Sully since we were kids, and she's never once… well… expressed interest in that sort of thing…"

"Of course, she hasn't talked to you about that sort of thing, moron. Sex is the sort of thing you only talk about to people of the same gender as you!" Vaike declared.

"Wah!? Since when did we start talking about that!?" Ricken relented.

"I'm surprised Vaike knows how to use the word 'gender' correctly…" Walter commented off-handedly.

"It's not as if I haven't… er… tried to…" Virion struggled to come up with a good word to use. "…initiate activity. However, every time the mood is set for us to… become intimate… Sully leaves to do something else."

"Ouch…" Gaius pitied the man. "Looks like someone ain't eager to get in bed to give some head…"

"Gaius…" Frederick muttered in a warning tone, considering the strange stares their group was receiving from the other patrons.

"Whatever the issue is, Sully and I have become somewhat distant because of it," Virion muttered dejectedly. "Is it perhaps too soon for us to do something so intimate?"

"Gregor does not think that is case," Gregor chimed in. "If you ask Gregor, is never too soon, especially when job is as dangerous as ours, yes?"

Everyone around the table nodded somberly. When in the line of duty, death on the battlefield was the end that most anticipated. As such, it was unsurprising how many couples—before wartime in particular—would consummate out of wedlock; Walter had seen it occur firsthand.

"There's nothing wrong with waiting," Libra decided to add. "I suppose it's no surprise that I'm an advocate for celibacy before marriage," the war monk smiled warmly.

"I don't think any of us are arguing against that, I suppose it's just odd—given the circumstances—that Virion and Sully haven't consummated their relationship yet," Walter hummed. "Your lives could be forfeit at any time; though—as tactician—I do try my best to ensure that doesn't ever occur, even I'm prone to mistakes every once in a while. It wouldn't hurt for the two of you to try to live life to the fullest, though I suppose that applies more to Sully than you, Virion."

Virion nodded with a sigh.

"If only I knew what was wrong…" the noble lamented.

"Er… beggin' yer pardon, sir…" Donnel suddenly spoke up. "I know that this probably seems like the obvious thing to do, but haven't you asked her what's wrong?"

Virion stared at him blankly.

"Oh Donnel, Donnel, Donnel…" Vaike shook his head, chuckling to himself. "You're young, so we're gonna excuse your naivety, but let Ol' Teach give you some words of wisdom: women NEVER tell you what's wrong until it's TOO LATE. That is the only time they'll ever talk to you about a problem; every other time, it's silent treatment—expectin' you to figure out what the hell's up with them."

Donnel stared at the warrior in confusion.

"Uh… is it really like that?" he inquired honestly.

"Don't listen to Vaike, Donnel; he's been bashed on the head one too many times to give sound advice…" Walter shook his head with a sigh. "You're right; Virion, did you ask Sully what was wrong?" the butler looked to his friend. Virion shook his head.

"No, I never thought to do so…" he admitted shamefully.

"Then ask her the next time you see her," Walter suggested. "It's not like she's going to break your legs for showing concern for her."

"Actually, that does sound like something Sully would do…" Stahl chuckled sheepishly. "I mean… she isn't the sort of person to ask for help, no matter how deep in the crap she is…"

"True, but Gregor thinks Sullykins will make exception for Virion, no?" the elder mercenary commented.

"None of you guys know what you're talkin' about! Ol' Teach is the master of the heart; I know a thing or two about love!" Vaike huffed.

"Somehow, I highly doubt that…" Frederick muttered.

"Really, if you're so high and mighty, how many relationships have you been in buddy!?" Vaike asked.

"None, I pride myself in being disciplined enough to wait for the correct woman to court," Frederick admitted without shame.

"Ain't so high and mighty now, are you?!" Vaike smiled smugly.

"If I may intercede, perhaps we ought not look at the number of relationships but the quality," Walter commented. "For example, I've no doubt in my mind that Virion's relationship with Sully is the best one he's had out of—I'm guessing—the countless relationships he's had prior."

"Yes, it is indeed…" Virion swooned slightly. "Sully is a wonderful 'tiger lily'; beautiful like the lily, ferocious like the tiger. If I were to live my entire life all over again, I'd forget each and every other woman before her, and fight to meet her sooner…"

Virion's lovestruck declaration earned a plethora of reactions. Vaike and Gaius looked as if they wanted to gag, but Donnel, Libra, and Gregor seemed rather supportive of him. The rest were somewhere in between.

"Alright, Mr 'Love Doctor'; if you're so learned, how many relationships have you been in?" Vaike inquired.

"That's information is none of your concern," Walter replied simply. "All I'll tell you is that I've 'been around the block' more times than all you have combined; save perhaps Gregor."

"Oh, bullshit," Gaius raised a brow. "YOU!? The dictionary definition of prim and proper? Yeah, I ain't buying it…"

"Do you think I was born that way?" Walter laughed. "I was quite the stallion when I was your age—actually your age, not just physically like I am now."

"Really?" Vaike's interest was piqued. "Alright, then give us an example; regale us with one of your ribald tales."

The bawdier of them started snickering, but it wasn't a stretch to say that even the more conservative of the group—Frederick, Libra, and even Lon'qu—were interested. Walter had thoroughly caught everyone's attention.

"Alright, I'll give you one example; I might give you another one if I feel up to it," the butler conceded.

Walter was tired. He was tired and he didn't feel like reporting to Arthur just yet. Having just spent the last ten hours—nearly half the day—chasing down three lesser vampires; the Hellsing butler was in dire need of a drink. It was habit really; after a really tiring mission, he'd find the closest bar and grab a quick drink or two before heading home for the night. Nothing really wrong with that, right?

As soon as he got a cab, he simply asked the driver to take him to the nearest pub; he'd pay triple if he got him there in under five minutes. The drive was swift as a result.

Arriving, the butler briefly raised a brow. On the exterior, it looked like nothing more than a musky old bar. The brick work was weathered and worn and the paintwork on the oaken entrance was peeling. The windows to the establishment looked as if they hadn't been cleaned in a couple weeks—maybe a couple months; the butler in him screaming at how filthy it looked. He couldn't even make out the name of the bar because the iron lettering which spelled out it's name had tarnished so severely that it looked even less legible than alphabet soup.

"Good to see where the average English citizen's tax money is going…" Walter muttered under his breath as he stepped out of the cab, paying his driver the agreed amount.

Undeterred, the butler strode to the oaken door and shoved it open. He relented slightly. The scent of alcohol was strong—strong enough to make an alcoholic blanch—but Walter wasn't about to let that stop him; the stench of ghouls was much more rancid. The interior looked more presentable than the exterior at the very least; if it weren't for the scent, he'd call the place homely. The tables, chairs, and bar looked like they were all hand crafted, and the light was a nice warm color. The floor—unlike the windows—seemed to have just been cleaned; the dark oak planks possessing a nice clean sheen.

Entering, the butler noted the patrons, or rather lack thereof. Save for a few scattered tables here and there, the place was practically empty…

…except at the bar, where a lone woman was sitting—slouched over depressively.

She was a young woman—looking to be in her early twenties—with rosy red hair and eyes the color of emeralds. Her skin was white as snow, and she had the curves to put a bottle to shame. She was dressed provocatively enough; her white collared shirt was unbuttoned enough that the smallest trace of her cleavage was visible, and her skirt ended just an inch or two above the knees—only just enough of her slender legs visible to catch a man's eye.

Walter smirked, knowing a silent invitation when he saw one.

Wordlessly, the butler strode across the room—his strut as confident as humanly possible—and took the seat beside the woman.

"You alone?" he inquired. The woman didn't pay him a glance.

"What's it to you?" she replied, somewhat prickly. Walter shrugged, chuckling somewhat.

"Beautiful women don't often frequent bars alone," he said coolly.

The woman laughed mirthlessly as she took a swig from her glass; the gold liquid inside obviously whiskey.

"They do when they've been dumped…" she grumbled, her tone a combination of depressed and enraged.

"I knew that today was going to be terrible day the moment I stepped out the door of my house, y'know..." she whispered bitterly. "Boyfriend of four fuckin' years cheated on me—with my whore of a sister nonetheless—and the poor workday at the restaurant I wait at; life sucks…"

Walter sighed empathetically. Poor girl seems like she'd been through a lot. She was desperate—love scorned—and Walter knew that she just wanted to lose herself in the passioned embrace of a man equally as desperate. Bars were where lonely folks with broken hearts came to drown their sorrows. It's where people like her would get hitched for a one-night stand.

Who was he to deny her what she obviously wanted?

"Two glasses of bourbon please; one for the lady and I," Walter gestured over to the bartender.

The bartender nodded, placing the glass on the bar before pulling out a bottle of bourbon. He poured it into the cup with practiced ease—so nonchalant that it'd been obvious that he'd been working the bar for a few years. He slid the glass to him before refilling the woman's glass.

"You didn't have to do that…" she murmured derisively—though her tone momentarily lapsed into a grateful one.

"Which is why you can thank me later," Walter took a sip from his own glass. "You seem like you could use a bit more to drink."

The woman didn't argue, only electing to bring her own glass up to her lips. She took a few small sips of her own before gently placing the glass back down on the bar. She stared down at the bourbon, Walter noting her bloodshot eyes—red from tears.

Looking down at his glass, he took a couple sips himself; though he was more focused on the woman in his peripheral vision. He resisted smirking; she was clearly glancing at him, blushing madly in fact. She looked like a love starved puppy.

"See something you like?"

The woman snapped out of her stupor. Walter craned his head slightly in her direction; a single eyebrow raised.

"You seem fairly intent to blankly stare at me; am I distracting you?" he asked, his voice a smooth baritone.

"I- n-no, of course not," the woman quickly regained her proverbial footing and smirked; feigning confidence.

"Oh… that's a shame…" Walter shrugged as his attention returned to his drink. "I admire women who are straightforward with what they want…" he placed minimal emphasis on 'want' before taking a small sip of his drink.

"…saves both of us a lot of time," he chuckled softly. The woman's smirk grew slightly

"What is it that you think I want, sir?" she spoke in a tone somewhere between 'sultry' and 'teasing'.

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror, ma'am?" Walter eyed her, somehow not glancing downward at her cleavage. "I think it's obvious to any man worth their salt; those that don't notice are probably… 'inexperienced'…" he finished. That earned a chuckle from the woman.

"Implying that you aren't 'inexperienced'?" she leaned in just a bit closer, a sultry smile gracing her face.

"I've been around," Walter took another sip of his bourbon. "Never heard any complaints and have always satisfied."

"Quite the boast; how am I to be certain you aren't lying?" the woman leaned in just a bit closer. Walter took a final sip of his drink—finishing his glass—before glancing at her once more, grinning very slightly.

"Only one way to find out…"

"No way that happened…" Vaike laughed dismissively as Walter finished his story. "I CAN'T believe it."

"Then don't…" Walter shrugged, taking a sip from his tankard. "Whether you believe me or not doesn't change the fact that it DID happen."

"So you just walked into the bar and picked up the first lonely chick you saw?" Gaius summarized.

"Yes," Walter said simply.

He could tell that some of them didn't believe him; who could blame them? The Walter they knew was the calm, disciplined, and focused Walter Dornez, Ylisse's 'Guardian Angel'. The man he was talking about seemed such a foreign entity—evenly he scarcely believed that he was speaking about himself. So self-important—so self-confidant—that he would walk into a room of ten women, and leave with twenty.

Promiscuity… it seemed such a foreign concept to him now. He'd told Chrom that—in his youth—he held no interest in settling down, but that hadn't stopped him from sleeping with well over several dozen women. Nowadays, just the thought of sleeping with one woman made him hesitate.

Then again, considering the last time he lov- was close with another person…

Walter briefly winced at the memory that threatened to resurface. He quickly covered it up; banishing it back to the further recesses of his mind. He mentally chided himself; he was done caring about the past, that chapter was closed.

"Hey, how about a drinking game?" Gaius' suddenly spoke up, snapping Walter out of his thoughts.

"How about we take a shot every time Vaike calls himself 'Ol' Teach'?"

"Oh, hell no…" Lon'qu objected.

"What is wrong, Lon'qu?" Gregor patted the younger man on the back. "Fearful you will pass out before everyone else?"

Lon'qu shook his head.

"No, I just value my own life; the oaf will make us drink ourselves to death…" the myrmidon replied with a smirk. Virion beamed.

"Hey, our dear Lon'qu made a joke! He's learning!" Virion laughed.

Lon'qu grumbled as everyone shared a laugh at his expense.

Ylisstol, Ylisse

December 7, Age 2609 (3:05 A.M.)

"Please… j- just go… Walter…"

"No, just hang in there, I'll get you out of here!"

"It's… too late…"

"Shut up! Let me stop the bleeding!"

"Walter…"

"Come on! Fucking shit!"

"…I…"

"Shit! Shit! SHIT!"

"…love you…"

Walter let out a gasp as he shot up from bed. Heart pounding in his chest, he made a conscious effort to slow his fast and short breaths. He ran a hand through his loose, untied, black locks—the sweat caking his face running down his cheeks. It was only after calming down and catching his breath that he managed to take in his surroundings.

He was in bed, Lucina lying asleep beside him, in the town house that they shared.

Walter buried his face in his hands, taking another calming breath.

"A dream…" he told himself. "Just a dream…"

A memory… his mind corrected. Walter relented. His throat felt dry.

Without a second thought, the butler slipped out of bed; careful not to awaken Lucina. Sliding himself into a pair of sweats, he carefully stepped out of the room; quietly closing the door behind him. Lightly treading into the kitchen, he grabbed a glass of water before sitting on the couch. He kept his eyes forward, staring at the unlit fireplace. The fireplace had long gone out, leaving Walter to sit in the darkness; the moonlight seeping through the window the only source of illumination. It was completely silent, save for the light pitter patter of the rain fall outside and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

The silence was suddenly broken as the door to the bedroom slowly creaked open. The faint warm glow of a candle invaded the cold moonlit room, and the light sound of gentle footsteps graced the butler's ears. Walter relaxed as a tender hand lovingly ran along his naked back. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"What's wrong…" Lucina murmured softly, placing the candle down on the end table as she sat beside him. She was wearing her sky-blue night gown—the very same one she wore that night in Regna Ferox.

"It's…" Walter ran his hand down his face and sighed. He glanced away from Lucina, looking down.

"Walter…" Lucina wrapped her slender arms around the butler, lightly embracing him. "…tell me," she whispered as lovingly as she could. Walter slowly looked back at her, sighing once more.

"It was only a dream…" he said quietly. Lucina looked at him, concerned.

"Only a dream?" she repeated, incredulous. "I'd hate to see the kind of dream that'd put you in such a state..." the woman murmured.

"I swear, it's nothing..." the butler lied.

Lucina furrowed her brows.

"No, it's not 'nothing'; I want to know what's frightened you so," Lucina pressed.

"I..." Walter's words died in his throat. The butler sighed, slumping.

Watching her usually resolute lover shrink back made Lucina wince. Taking a deep breath, the princess lightly embraced him.

"Please, tell me..." she whispered into his ear. "Let me in..."

Walter sighed once again as Lucina unwrapped her arms from around him, looking into his eyes expectantly. Unable to hide any longer, the butler spoke.

"It was… a memory…" Walter revealed.

"What kind?" Lucina asked quietly.

"An..." the butler hesitated for a second. "...unpleasant one."

"Unpleasant?" Lucina confirmed. "Tell me about it..." she whispered empathetically.

"It was about someone," Walter admitted. "Someone I lost…"

"Someone important to you?" Lucina gently pressed.

"I..." the butler hesitated. "It doesn't matter, it happened so long ago. I guess I was… taken off guard is all…" he finished with a sigh. Lucina ran her hand down his arm's length.

"I know you, Walter," the princess grasped his hand. "There isn't much in the world that fazes you. The fact that this 'memory' did makes me worried. I suppose, if you're panicked—even slightly—I get panicked as well..."

Walter attempted to glance away from the woman; his eyes fixated elsewhere. However, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep himself from staring into her midnight-blue eyes. The earnest look in her eyes made the butler relent. He couldn't keep anything from her, not something... something like this...

Walter took a deep breath.

"I don't think you want to hear about it," Walter made a final attempt to dissuade her.

"I do…" Lucina assured with a small smile. "I want to know about why this bothers you so much."

Walter thought about it for a few seconds. This was something he'd kept to himself for the longest time, buried beneath layers upon layers of other thoughts and worries. This was as personal a memory as it could get. Still, the earnest desire to understand him won him over.

"The person I lost was... a woman," Walter admitted.

"A woman you were close to?" Lucina inquired, albeit hesitantly. Walter nodded.

"She was… I… I loved her just as much as I love you right now..." he muttered, feeling his heart tighten in his chest.

"Oh…" Lucina flinched.

She knew it was common for a person to love more than one person throughout their life, and she really shouldn't have been surprised that a man as… well, that had lived as long as Walter, had loved someone before he loved her. Despite this, she still felt a tiny sting in her chest knowing that she probably wasn't his first... anything. Lucina knew better to assume otherwise, but the confirmation was a tiny jab all the same.

Walter, as if sensing her unease, raised his hand to her chin. Tilting her head upward so their eyes could meet, he smiled warmly.

"Luce…" he murmured intimately. "It was a long time ago; it's in the past," he assured. This seemed to ease Lucina a bit, the bluenette relaxing beneath his gaze.

"I love you," she muttered simply. Walter sighed contentedly.

"I love you too…" he replied, holding her close.

He buried the memory of the other woman he'd lost a long time ago once more. He was eager to create new, more happy memories, with Lucina; to forget about that long forgotten chapter of his life. He'd not thought about his past lover for years, and he wasn't going to start thinking about her again now.

Still, it was strange…

…why was that memory coming up now when it hadn't done so for years?

Southern Plegia

December 7, Age 2609 (3:40 A.M.)

He hated taking orders from that sorry excuse for a doctor, Avondale Naypeer. Scratch that…

…he absolutely detested taking orders from him.

It wasn't enough that he was making him running around throughout Ylisse and Regna Ferox for the sake of some sick and twisted plan; no, but he was sending him into the desert of all places. If he knew one thing, the desert was no place for a creature like him, even if it was night time. Still, he wasn't about to argue, not when he was practically bound to the bastard of a doctor; even then, he couldn't kill him even if he wanted to.

He loosened the silky black tie around his neck as he trudged through the desert. His work boots were getting scuffed as he kicked up sand. He was really eager to locate his target; he'd much rather be drinking a nice glass of bourbon instead, but he couldn't do that until after he completed his mission. As such, he could barely resist the smirk forming on his face when spotted the desert village on the horizon.

A swift abduction desirable, he silently slinked across the desert and into the village. How people lived in such an inhospitable location, he'd never understand; Egypt at least had the commodity of a river running through it, Plegia seemed to have nothing of the sort. He wasn't there to question humanity's tenacity to survive against even the most brutal of circumstance; Alucard had hammered that factoid into his head enough already. He scoffed at the thought of the vampire.

What he'd give to tear the monster's throat out… the bastard deserved nothing less.

Banishing all thoughts of the king of all vampires from his mind, he refocused on his given task. He kept his eyes out for any sentries patrolling the area—he found none—before initiating his search. He narrowed his eyes as he peered into the mud-brick, sandstone, houses; looking for his target with a laser focus. For several minutes, he went from house to house—moving as silently as a snake. It wasn't long before he found his target.

Slipping into the modest home, he made sure not to make even the tiniest of noises. Maneuvering through the home, he carefully pushed the bedroom door open. He narrowed his eyes as he confirmed he'd found his target.

Lying in a bed of hay was a young girl, in her late teens—seventeen to nineteen if he had to guess—sleeping peacefully. Her long rosy hair was tied into a pair of twin tails—odd that she hadn't untied them before going to bed—and she wore the traditional attire of a mercenary. Her eyebrows, despite being asleep, were downturned—the girl scowling slightly even in her slumber. She was definitely who he was looking for.

Looming over her inert form, he quietly un-looped the bundle of rope hanging from his belt and grabbed a long piece of cloth to gag her with. Leaning down, he was inches away from grabbing her when…

"Hmm?" The girl stirred slightly, eyes blinking open. Vision focused, now awake, her eyes widened upon seeing the intruder.

"Who the hell ar-"

He didn't give her a chance to finish, shoving his hand around her neck to keep her from talking; other hand gripping the rag he was going to gag her with. He wasn't a fan of such dirty work—especially since it was just a teenager he was kidnapping—but he wasn't exactly going to leave his mission unfinished. He felt the girl struggle against him—vainly attempting to tear his hand away from her neck. She squirmed and kicked him to no avail; no normal human could hope to overpower what he was.

Very briefly, he let go of her neck to fasten the rag into a gag, giving her the briefest second to curse him out. It wasn't enough time for her to scream for help, leaving her to continue her helpless struggle against him. Spouting incomprehensible viscera through her gag, she mumbled and grumbled her muffled screams.

Despite how vain her struggles was, he was steadily losing the patience to deal with her fighting. Since the tranquilizer was such a scarcity, he wasn't given any to use this time around, so he knew he'd have to get physical. Brutally, he curled up his fist and back handed the girl harshly—even gagged, her sharp cry and whimper came through. He winced, but he had to stop her from struggling. He backhanded her again; eliciting yet another pained whimper from the girl.

Having dazed her, he was now free to bound her hands and feet. She was still conscious, but her body had gone limp. Eager to get the job over with as quickly as possible, he was quick to tie up her hands and feet at the wrists and ankles respectively. Now that she was rendered helpless, he easily hefted her over his shoulder and began carrying her as if she were a burlap sack.

He exited the village without any issue with his target in tow. He pitied the girl somewhat—not enough to regret beating her a little. Still, what had to be done had been done.

"Your name is Severa, correct?" he asked. The girl was too dazed to reply.

"I suppose it's too late to ask you that now. At this point, all I can do is pretend that you're talking back; good heavens, perhaps I've truly gone off the deep end. Too late to turn back now, anyway…" he lamented. "I could use some bourbon right now… maybe some cognac instead…" he sighed as he began his long trek back through the desert.

He really wished he'd stayed retired.

Ylisstol, Ylisse ~ City Gates

December 7, Age 2609 (7:00 A.M.)

"Everyone ready to go?"

"Yes, captain!"

Chrom smirked as he scanned his team once again. Walter did his best to balance out the two teams of Shepherds as much as possible. On his team, he had Frederick and Stahl(the Calvary), Miriel(the mage), Maribelle and Lissa(the healers), Gaius and Kellam(the stealth), Panne(the extra muscle), and Sumia(the air support). Everyone else was placed on Walter's team—Donnel, Cordelia, Vaike, Sully, Virion, Gregor, Lon'qu, Ricken, Nowi, Tharja, and Libra.

"You sure you'll be able to handle this without me?" Chrom smirked at Walter, who stood beside him.

"You know, I could ask you the same thing," Walter chuckled.

"Well, I survived most of the war without you, so I don't think a lone murderer is going to be much trouble for me; especially with everyone watching each other's backs," Chrom replied. "We'll probably be back in Ylisstol in a few days—murderer either in chains or dead."

"I suppose it wouldn't matter either way," Walter shrugged. "I do implore you to act with caution; remember, the killer has managed to escape custody—murdering all those that stand in their way. It'd be a tragedy if any of you were done in because you didn't take them seriously."

Chrom nodded.

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll be careful—we'll all be. Instead of worrying about my team, how about you worry about yours? I think you may have a situation on your hands…"

Walter furrowed his brows, turning around to check his group.

"YOU WANNA SAY THAT ONE MORE TIME!?"

"I TOLD YOU, I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING!"

"Shit.." Walter cursed under his breath. It seemed that Sully was going off on Vaike for something he'd apparently said.

"Well, I won't keep you any longer," Walter waved to Chrom as he began to wander back towards his team.

"Walter," Chrom stopped the butler, who turned to face him a final time. "…good luck."

Walter nodded with a smile.

"Oh Chrom, when have I ever needed luck on my side to win?" the butler chuckled before returning his attention to his squabbling team.

Watching Walter leave again, Chrom couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen to him. Not just Walter, but everyone actually. Not for the first time, he felt like something was off about the missions they were each embarking upon. Whatever was bothering him couldn't be ascertained just yet, so the prince chose to ignore it for now. He was probably experiencing some last minute jitters, that was probably it.

Turning on his heel, he moved to join his team of Shepherds. Unlike Walter's team, his were engaged in idle conversation.

"Alright," he addressed his team. "We treat this like any other operation; whether we're up against one man or a hundred. Watch each other's backs, and stay in your assigned pairs. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, captain!" was the unified shout.

Satisfied, he gestured for everyone to move out. As they left the city gates to head west towards Themis, Chrom took one last glance at Walter's southbound group.

"You alright, captain?"

Chrom's attention snapped towards his addresser. He was taken aback by the slightly concerned expression of Sumia.

"Yeah, just… thinking, is all," he replied.

"Good thinking or bad thinking?" Sumia tilted her head cutely. Chrom felt his throat constrict at the sight.

"Er… I don't actually… know," the prince struggled to find his words, his mind suddenly preoccupied with the person in front of him. "Is that a… azaleas I'm smelling?"

"Oh, you noticed!?" Sumia blushed, suddenly flustered. "Maybe I put on a bit too much—it's not too strong of a smell, right? I just wanted to try out a new fragrance."

"No no, it's not too strong, not too strong at all!" Chrom replied a bit more forcefully than he probably wanted. "I think you smell perfect!"

Chrom winced at his own words. 'I think you smell perfect'? Those surely were undoubtedly the best words to say…

…if he wanted to sound like a creep.

To his relief, Sumia didn't seem to mind, instead smiling sheepishly.

"R-really?" she scratched her cheek nervously. "I mean, I know this an important mission and all—Cordelia told me that I shouldn't be too focused on stuff like that. I mean, really, smelling good doesn't really help on the battlefield and all," Sumia rambled, speaking faster than intended.

"Well, it smells good," Chrom reiterated dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

"Thanks, it's nice to be complimented on- WAH!"

Chrom quickly caught Sumia in his arms before she stumbled onto the ground. It was to be expected really, the woman had the proclivity of tripping over basically anything and everything. Thankfully, Chrom had been around her enough to know to be prepared to catch her at anytime.

"You alright?" Chrom asked concernedly, looking down at the woman in his arms.

"Y-yeah…" Sumia muttered softly.

The two probably stayed in that position—Sumia in his arms—for a bit longer than need be, but neither really noticed until after several long seconds had passed. When they did, it was Sumia that made the first move, practically hoping to her feet; her cheeks were burning a bright red.

"I'm sorry captain!" she exclaimed quickly before suddenly turning on her heel and fast walking away.

Chrom stared at her retreating back for a few seconds before falling in stride once more, his thoughts now focused on the fair skinned Pegasus Knight with light hazel hair that bordered on caramel. The prince thought back to his conversation with Walter the day before. To be honest, part of him didn't know what it was he felt for the woman—he knew it was more than a small attraction but certainly below love. He was hesitant to give the butler a straight answer regarding his feelings because he didn't fully understand them himself. Thinking back, when was it that he started seeing her less as a partner in battle and more as person of the opposite sex; a person who—without mincing words—was inarguably beautiful.

He couldn't help but smirk thinking back on the time Sumia had punched him in the face. She certainly put him in his place, even though she failed to recognize that snapping one out of their doldrums usually entailed a slap rather than a punch. Contrary to her… well… delicate appearance, she had a pretty mean right hook too, so his cheek hurt for the next day or two.

Chrom chuckled, it was an overall humorous memory; regardless of the circumstances which led to her punching him.

Still, it certainly wasn't the moment he started to notice her more as the woman she was, but it did serve as a reminder that the typically demure Pegasus Knight had more fire in her than even Sully at times.

Naga help me if Sully ever finds out that I think Sumia can be more forceful than her… Chrom shuddered.

Whatever led him to start lov- being attracted to Sumja could wait, he had Shepherds to lead and a long march to Themis to traverse. He could think on the matter later; Chrom assumed he had all the time in the world anyway.

Little did he know, watching from afar, a sinister man in a bloodied lab coat was grinning madly. Straightening his multi-lensed glasses with his middle finger, he snickered.

"The board is set, the pieces are in place," his smile widened. "Let the game begin…"

Western Ylisse (Themis Region) ~ The City of Democratos

December 9, Age 2609 (10:00 A.M.)

It was a day's march from Ylisstol to Themis' main city, Democratos, with an extra four hours on top. The Shepherds marched at a pace that was both dutiful and brisk—though that hardly meant it wasn't filled with idle conversation. Maribelle—most likely due the fact this was her home—seemed the most excited to be there. In stark contrast, Gaius seemed more than a little apprehensive of their destination; Chrom chalked it up to his… well, less than stellar background.

Democratos, home to Duke Marquis—Ylisse's chief magistrate. If that wasn't reason enough for a 'former' career criminal—Chrom was more than insistent that Gaius follow Ylisse's laws lest he wish the pardon he and his sister gave him upon his induction into the Shepherds be revoked—to be tense, than Chrom didn't know what was.

"There it is, my home!" Maribelle pointed at the horizon, a pleased grin on her face.

Looking in the distance, Maribelle was telling the truth; the city of Democratos was in sight. The city itself was built at the base of a mountain—the Themis region being on the north western border between Ylisse and Plegia. It was a large city—the third largest city in Ylisse and second largest capital for a dukedom, surpassed only by Achelous: Oceanus' capital. All the buildings were made from the same white quartz-like stone that many of Ylisstol's buildings were made from, giving the city an ethereal appearance. Due to it's location, the city was constantly expanded further up the base of the mountain; buildings build on sturdy foundations, the roads ascending until they ended at the duke's home—a lavish looking manor of two stories.

The city was structured into zones, much like Ylisstol, the classes segregated; though the disparity between them were far more minute. This was thanks to the efforts of Duke Marquis, who's similar views to Emmeryn led him to doing what he could to stimulate economic growth in his lands; encouraging the wealthy to hire more workers and lifting most of the poor out of poverty. This has allowed Themis to become one of the more prosperous regions in Ylisse, though the prosperity did the dukedom very little good during the war.

Chrom's turned downward as he spotted damage on the outer wall of the city. Regardless of Themis' prosperity, it's location on the border made it an easy target for Plegia during the war. Democratos has been attacked twice during the conflict, nearly three times. The first was during the abduction of Maribelle—arguably the action which began the war. The second occurred during Gangrel's push past the borders, his army of ghouls encroaching upon the city during the last weeks of the war. The attack was repelled, but not without damages. A third attack was likely to have occurred if the war didn't end when it did; more people that owed their lives to Walter.

Thoughts of war pushed aside for the time being, Chrom led his Shepherds to the front gate of the city. As they began to ascend to foothills and towards the city, the prince spotted a man standing out front accompanied by an armed guard. He had slicked back golden hair and sharp hazel eyes; his goatee was touched up giving it a clean look. His severe expression was accentuated by the wrinkles below his eyes and between his brows; his sharp cheek bones adding to his stern appearance. He wore black tailcoat embroidered with gold filament over a matching waistcoat and a white dress shirt; a red cravat with a burgundy floral pattern tied around his neck. His black pants were tucked into a pair of glossy knee length boots; polished so much that you could see your reflection in them.

"Prince Chrom," the man bowed, a friendly smile on his face, as they stopped before him.

"Duke Marquis," Chrom greeted politely.

"Father," Maribelle curtsied, having—more than forcefully—forced herself to the front beside Chrom.

"Maribelle, my darling," Marquis' smile widened at the sight of his daughter. "I did not know that you were among the number that were arriving today."

"I wished to surprise you, father; it 'tis why I did not write regarding the matter," Maribelle replied with a smile of her own.

"Then truly, I did not prepare enough for your arrival," Marquis gestured for a guard. "Prithee return to my manor in haste? Inform everyone that we are to prepare double the original amount intended for the dinner; not only are we to host the prince and his entourage, but my daughter as well."

The guard saluted the duke before doing as he was told. Marquis the gestured for the Shepherds to follow him into the city, but not before Chrom caught him eyeing Gaius; the thief choosing not to make eye contact. The prince furrowed a brow minutely before falling in stride beside the noble.

Entering the city, the Shepherds were greeted with the wonderful sight of a bustling street. Vendors lined up to greet visitors; men, women, and children wandering from building to building. A few builders were positioned atop a few damaged buildings, repairing them to the best of their ability.

"It seems the city's doing well for itself," Chrom commented as he smiled at a few pedestrians who noticed his entrance.

"In thanks to the funds graciously granted to us by the Halidom," Marquis replied humbly. "Though Democratos bore very little damage during the war, the western areas of Themis were ravaged by the fighting. The repairs you see here are funded by money from my pocket; the relief funds have all gone into easing the damages felt elsewhere in the region."

"Is that's so?" Chrom hummed in approval. "I'll have to tell Emm and Walter to funnel just a bit more money in your direction then; while it's fantastic that you're helping pay for the repairs, I don't think anyone wants you to spend all your money on it."

Marquis laughed.

"Nonsense!" he exclaimed. "I've more money than I can spend; its best the relief funds are allocated towards areas where they are more needed."

Chrom chuckled at the earnestness of the duke.

"Alright, but I'm still telling Emm and Walter about this; you at least deserve some amount of commendation for it," the prince smirked.

"If I must, but that does pique my interest," Marquis furrowed his brows. "Is the one called 'Walter Dornez' not with you?"

Chrom shook his head.

"No, Walter isn't here; he's leading the rest of the Shepherds to deal with a Risen threat near Southtown."

"Is that so?" Marquises hummed. "A pity, I was very much eager to meet 'Ylisse's Guardian Angel'. I've heard such fantastical tales regarding his heroism, I simply must meet the man for myself."

Chrom laughed again.

"Well, I'll be sure to tell him that you're one of his fans. He'd probably be more than happy to attend dinner with you if you invited him. Well, that or he'd be pretty annoyed that you're prying him away from his work," Chrom smirked.

"Well, regardless of him not being present, I am most relieved to see you and your Shepherds here," Marquis said with a small quiver. "These last few weeks since the first murders have been rather tense for everyone: myself and the people."

Chrom nodded.

"Yeah, I can imagine…" the prince murmured.

"Well, let us not waste any time; we shall discuss the matter within the safety of my home," Marquis declared as he hastened his pace. Chrom followed suit, gesturing the Shepherds to follow his stride.

At their speed, it was only a few minutes before they reached Marquis' manor. Entering, they were led into the lavish sitting room for discussion. There were several sofas for everyone to sit on; enough that no one had to stand. Everyone sat down, waiting for Duke Marquis to begin fully explaining the situation to them. As soon as the duke sat down, he let out a troubled sigh.

"Before we begin, I wish to express my gratitude regarding the presence of the lot of you; I reiterate that these murders have brought a shroud of fear down upon this city," Marquis began.

"As would be natural, milord," Frederick answered. "Have no fear, the Shepherds will do their utmost to find this murderer and bring him to justice."

"Of course, I'm happy to hear that, however…" Marquis shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "…I fear this killer—whomever this reprobate may be—is beyond even the capability of you all."

Marquis sighed.

"I've done my best to capture this degenerate—I've increased security, hired stronger sentries, and even employed professional mercenaries from Regna Ferox—no matter what's been done, the miscreant never fails to escape; copious amounts of bodies left in their wake. I fear that you will only serve to increase the death toll."

"Father, if I may be so bold, I feel that you are either greatly overestimating this reprobate, or greatly underestimating the ability of the Shepherds," Maribelle chided. "Make no mistake, what you see before you are undoubtedly the most skilled individuals in Ylisse; regardless of their less than presentable appearance."

"Could she not take a jab at us while hyping us up…?" Stahl muttered under his breath.

"Darling, I'm not underestimating any of you—far from it actually; I hold no group in higher regard. You would not think I did not trust my daughter to be in the company of those who are most capable?" Marquis replied with a smile. "It is not the skills of the Shepherds that is being called into question, it is whether the ability of this rampant murderer still surpasses yours."

"I can assure you, Lord Marquis, we'll have the killer in custody by tonight. You have my word," Chrom assured.

"Perhaps you're right, perhaps I'm simply overestimating our foe," Marquis sighed. "Come, we shall speak on this issue later; for now we celebrate! Not only have you—Prince Chrom—graced my hold with your presence, but my daughter has returned home as well!"

The duke clapped his hands once, a gesture which summoned a butler to his side.

"Liam, prithee kind enough to escort our friends to the guest chambers?"

"Of course, sir," the butler replied with a bow. "This way please," he gestured for the Shepherds to follow.

Chrom nodded as he fell in stride behind the older man, the Shepherds following.

"If I may have a word, Gaius; I believe that's your name?" Marquis muttered in a hushed tone, though it wasn't quiet enough for Chrom not to notice.

The prince furrowed his brows as the named thief nervously approached the duke. Though he wasn't able to hear any of the conversation, he along with everyone else was quickly ushered out of the room by Liam, but Chrom could tell there was some sense of familiarity between the two. How Gaius knew Duke Marquis—and vice versa—was a mystery that he'd prod the thief about later. For now, he was just eager to rest for a short while after a long and arduous march.

Writer's Notes

Here we go, the ball's started rolling and things are progressing. A lot of set up for the rest of the arc this chapter. Next chapter will be a lot more exciting, in terms of action and events.

So many enigmatic events occurring all around once, from Walter's suffering from sudden flashbacks to a past he hasn't thought about in awhile, to the mysterious man kidnapping people from Lucina's future for Herr Docktor. Not to mention the murderer running rampant in Democratos and the Risen near Southtown; what challenges will our heroes face next time?

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Men's Night Out - Here was a scene that I've wanted to write for awhile now—since the Gangrel Arc, actually. However, I decided to postpone writing it because I felt that it would've been tonality dissonant from the rest of the arc. As such, it got pushed to the beginning of this arc.

It was challenging figuring out valid reasons for each of the male Shepherds to be drinking at the bar. I suppose that's half the fun of this scene, just seeing how this group of 'friends' functions; espescially since their all so different from one another. More than before, I wanted to highlight the playful banter—almost brotherly—everyone shares; from how all of them sort of band together to figure out why Virion's getting blue-balled to the rapt interest in Walter's past sex life. Speaking of which...

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Walter's Story/Walter being Casanova - Now that Walter's back to being his young adult self, I thought it was only right that I give a look into how I like to imagine our favorite butler with razor floss acted when he was actually twenty something. I imagine him as this sort of suave Casanova type—a man with an infinite amount of charisma and wit. He's past that petulant teenage phase, but hasn't been tempered like he is in the present; he has a self-confidence that borders on arrogance, but a better sense of restraint.

Now, the scene itself was actually part of a draft the first chapter of the other story currently in progress—whose first chapter came out the same day this arc debuted. In fact, you'll see that most of it is nearly beat-for-beat the same—with a few minor adjustments here and there. My goal was to highlight Walter's sexuality—just how amorous a person he was in his young adulthood; his calculated seduction giving credence to his intelligence. To reiterate, he's similar to the man you've read about throughout the story thus far, but different because of where he was at that point in his life.

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Democratos and Duke Marquis - I knew going into this arc that I'd have to flesh out more of the world of this story—namely the dukedoms of Ylisse. The dukedom of Themis, the only one named in Fire Emblem Awakening, wasn't the first one I brainstormed ideas for, but I knew it would be one of the most important ones.

Every detail mattered when it came to creating the city of Democratos, even the name; which is derived from the Greek word for 'democracy', dēmokratiā (derived from the words, dēmos[people, and [kratos]). In terms of appearance, given the fact that it's a city near the mountainous border pass, it only made sense that the city was chiefly built on the foothills; steadily ascending as they built. Initially, I visualized it similarly to Markarth in Skyrim, but found it more akin to Dale from J.R.R Tolkein's 'the Hobbit'; either way, both are mountainous cities.

Presiding over Themis is Duke Marquis—Maribelle's father. Like Themis itself, we don't find out much about the man—his name's not even mentioned once—so I had to come up with something. I didn't put much thought into his appearance—other than the fact that he had to look 'severe' in a way that denoted authority, and he had to have goatee; dont know why I he did, I just gave him one. A lot of his dialogue and speech patterns were derived from Maribelle—he talks much in the same manner that she does and uses most of the same vocabulary—but I gave him a more 'down to earth' demeanor to contrast his stern face. Unlike his daughter, he knows how to speak to people without speaking down to them, so to speak. Speaking of his daughter, I can only imagine that he loves Maribelle very much; doting on her like any parent probably would to their child.

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Kerrowe - Nope, still going!

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Touhoufanatic - The continuation I've been struggling to figure out too! It's always intimidating trying to out do yourself, espescially when the last thing you did felt like peak of the mountain. Still gonna give it my all like I always do.

Well, I hope I surprise you with the reveal(s)...

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GUEST - Glad to see that I can still manage to write an opening to an arc—February of last year was when I started the Gangrel Arc, and that was a VERY different start compared to this one. I was nervous releasing the chapter because I struggled writing it. Good to see that I was worried for nothing.

Well, you—along with everyone else—will get to see how the 'lovely' Doktor does his work. It's... well... you can expect it to not be pretty...

Who can the man with silver eyes be?

I always thought Walter's betrayal was something you had interpret. I mean, why he did what he did is a debate that can be had between Hellsing fans until the end of time. I have my own interpretation of why he wanted betray Hellsing, but that's a story for another time...

...or rather, a different fanfic?

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CamoMurf - I know you're reviewing chapter 28, but I couldn't resist responding to this review.

How does a man respond to learning his closest friend and confidant—who, while being around seventh years old, was physically a teenager at the time—slept with his twenty something year old daughter from the future? Question his own sanity, probably (I know I would).

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Jeez, it's been awhile since I did one of these, y'know? I actually had much of last chapter done a while back—not gonna say how far back. Just know that 'current events' got in the way. How's this for a second chapter, by the by?

Down to business, I started a new fanfic alongside this one called 'Walter Dornez: To Live is to Die'. Consider that story... supplementary of sorts to this one. What I mean is that, Walter's past is shrouded in mystery so we might as well delve into it, right? Espescially since some of it might pertain to Walter's current... 'predicament'.

Either way, please check it out, I'd really appreciate it!

In other news, the schedule for releasing chapters is—much to my chagrin—shaky. I'd like—very much—to maintain weekly updates without breaks in the schedule, but I know for a fact that's a difficult task. When chapters are around 8,000 to 15,000 words, my ability to write at a decent pace is dented; I'm also one person that doesn't have someone to proofread for him. I'll do my best, but I'm gonna stumble and I apoligize in advance.

Anyway, that'll be it for now! Much love to you guys, and I hope to talk to y'all next time!

Stay safe!

~WizardCantNameThings

Next time on Walter Dornez of the Emblem!

Encounter